Earlier today I was feeling antsy about my date, and I posted on my other blog about how important love is to me, how everything else in life is just a feeble attempt to distract myself from not being/being too in love.
But neck-and-neck with being in love, is loving what I do. What a fucken concept. I ultimately just want to love life, which usually means loving your job, or loving everything else so much that your 37.5-80 hours a week of work don't really matter.
Kid loves his job. He went into work today, even though it is President's Day. God, I am so envious of people who love what they do and want to tell me about it. It's just so attractive, and I mean that in a literal way. I am so drawn to people who love love love what they do. It's like I think that their enthusiasm for something will rub off on me, and I will become shamelessly enthralled by something.
So far that's only worked with smoking.
I got up early and baked scones with fresh blueberries and dried cranberries. I ate about a dozen of them throughout the day while I waited to hear back from Kid to see what was going to transpire today. We met up and ate falafel and played pool. I don't know how that lasted four hours, but it did. I kept thinking I had snot on my face and it made me nervous, but that is the danger of going out when you are recovering from snotty head syndrome.
He is kind of quiet, very gentle-seeming, and I like him. I hate wondering if someone likes me too. At this point in my life it is always jarring to suddenly realize you wonder/care what someone else thinks about you. Luckily this doesn't happen very often. I think it would drive me fucken crazy.